


colors blossomed when you held me

by lovvkke



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Imagery, M/M, Synesthesia, it’s not that shippy just really self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23981896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovvkke/pseuds/lovvkke
Summary: Keith has synesthesia connecting touch and color visions.Each of his teammates feel a certain way but only one of them feels like home.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	colors blossomed when you held me

Keith has synthesia. It’s very simple. There are many people with it back on earth. It’s not common, but it’s not necessarily rare either. His brain is just wired differently. From all the combinations and hybrids of senses mixing, he saw touched colors. Saw colors when he touched objects and surfaces. 

Sometimes the colors explode like paintballs across his vision. Other times, they’re mellow little notes of colors hinting and soaking up pigments. More often than not, back on earth, they were pleasant colors. 

And when they aren’t-- that’s why he made sure to always have his gloves on him. 

The comfort of the always welcome, but unfrequent desert rain soaking into his skin was heavenly. Dark blue blankets clouded his vision even after he closed his eyes. 

Before Keith sleeps, when he turns on the mattress, the blankets are a downy gray, ready to take him into the arms of sleep. From years of survival training and working himself until exhaustion saps all energy, Keith never truly gets to appreciate the comfort. When his head hits the pillows and the blankets are pulled so tight around him with no room to move, he only gives the colors a few moments to roll in like smoke into his vision before it all sinks back to where it came from. 

Hunk’s embrace, more of trap really, looks like honey left out on a warm, pleasant, not scalding summer day that makes him feel at peace. 

When he walks down the Castle of Lions and brushes the cool metal of the castle walls, there is a strange white, metallic tinge in his vision. It’s loud and bright, makes room for itself. It makes him feel alone and alien sometimes when he gives it more than a few seconds to sit in his mind. Keith stays away from the walls. 

Pidge is a green, full of vitality, and truth be told, also annoying. Their color when they slap his hands away from her equipment is ugly, bad web-design green, too vibrant and too sharp when they appear in front of him. Sometimes, though, they would gently graze his hand and hold it, when they say they were comforting him, but he knew it was for them. In those times, green vines crawled through his vision, not forceful, but reassuring. 

They told him they were going to be okay. But Keith noticed that the vines were shriveling at the ends. 

Shiro’s touches were Keith’s favorite on earth. Besides the fact that Shiro had been there when everything was in and going to hell for Keith, Shiro’s shoulder pats were effective. Most of the time. They calm him, the warmth spreading from his shoulder. Shiro who is only three years older than him felt like the older brother that he never had when he was abandoned and then orphaned at eight. The warmth is lavender but carries a sense of hope with it, if hope has a color. Its edges were washed out and white. Their unembarrassed hugs, which happen more than he cares about now are orange. The gentle flicker of familiarity reassures him even though everything is still heading towards the end. 

Shiro was family, but he was never home. Too much has kept him occupied and away. 

And then there was Lance. Lance whose voice is both lightning and the white-noise of ocean waves crashing onto rocks. Lance who makes him see the most vibrant shades and colors ever seen. Lance who makes him see the entire shift of the universe from red to blue. 

When they first met, back at the Garrison, not over Shiro’s terrifying corpse-like body, Lance had shaken his hand, formal and firm. Keith saw stars. The colors dotted his vision, like insistent blue-lit fireflies. 

Home looks like a brown-haired Cuban boy and feels like white-hot lighting, shores crashing on the ocean, and a universe to call his own. 

Lance feels like home.

Lance is his home.

**Author's Note:**

> this was entirely made for self-fulfillment and i have no excuse for it honestly. it was also written back when i was 17 and i didn't post it. 
> 
> anyway, holler at me on my tumblr @[bisexual-lance](https://bisexual-lance.tumblr.com/)!!
> 
> i crave comments and would love to hear from you ☆


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